I awoke to the sound of a car engine slowing as it pulled
off the road into my neighbor’s dirt yard….I thought to myself ”already!?”, after a long night of tossing
and turning due to chills, fever, and upset stomach I was not feeling at my
best and yet my supervisor, the director of one of the local NGOs (non
governmental organization, aka non profit) had just arrived to pick me up.
I luckily had thrown together most of my things the night
before, however 7am seemed early to start our journey. Pulling my mosquito bed
net up from under my mattress, creating a hole just big enough for me to duck
through, I flung open my door and shutters so as not to appear lazy, and to
have been awake for longer than the last 5 minutes. Little did I know, but the
neighbor’s wife and daughter were catching a lift to the large town we were
passing through, so we piled into his car that so closely resembles a life
sized Jeep Barbie car. We stopped at the NGO’s office (more like a complex of 3
concrete buildings and yard with small houses clustered down a path) beforehand
to eat breakfast of rice and beans followed by sweet fried bread balls with
coffee.
The president of this NGO, who had come down from Tana for
the weekend’s events, joined us. He has spent several years doing research in
the special reserve close to my town and has several projects going on in
Madagascar. Besides teaching at the University in Tana, he works closely with
an American university to promote environmental education and conservation, and
used to live in the US as well. I tried my best to only use Malagasy to express
myself, but it was just too easy to find the words in English. It was also refreshing to see his familiar
face, from my swearing in ceremony where we first met, affirming I had indeed
survived my first 3 weeks at site.
The drive to the nearest large town- a nice trip in
comparison for what was in store-followed a smoothly paved road which helped my
stomach stay settled. Here we stopped to buy soccer cleats for a coworker
(unfortunately they only had men’s sizes-not shocking in this country-and they
were all too big for me) and he joined us on our drive to the event. I had
heard that this road was bad, but I had no idea just how bad it really was. The
dirt road began with small pot holes, followed by large chunks of earth that had
broken away from the side of the road. Rocks and compact clay made up the path,
wide enough for barely 2 cars width, for the entire 3 ½ hour drive. With no
seatbelt to hold me in my seat, and the afternoon heat reaching it’s peak, my
initial excitement and joy melted into stomach pain and headache. Thankfully we
stopped for lunch, where I forced myself to eat pork and rice, that was
actually quite good but I instantly regretted it once we got back into the car.
The breeze at least somewhat helped but the road only got worse! A few steep
hills with protruding boulders didn’t prove to be too challenging for our
Barbie- car stead, but I maintained my tight grip on the side bar to somewhat
steady myself from the bouncing and jostling inside the vehicle.
Finally arriving in Vondrozo were the celebration would be
held the next day, we met fellow NGO colleagues at the high school’s outdoor
basket ball game, women then men teams. This was the largest crowd I had been
around yet, being the only white person. I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious
but nevertheless tried to make small talk with the leaders of the local NGOs
who were present.
We ate dinner, as it was getting dark, at a “hotely” aka
restaurant. Afterwards, I went straight to bed but not before stuffing cotton
into my ears which only partially blocked out the blaring music from the
restaurant directly on the other side of the window above my head.
ENVIRONMENT DAY-some breakfast (soup again) and then set up
of our stand. Reminded me of setting up for events when I worked at the chiro’s
office in Colorado, except these stands were bright blue plastic for roof and
walls, only 10 in total, 5 booths facing each other in front of an official building.
All day event: 9am-9pm
A caravan started off the event, which I learned is very
common in Madagascar. First motorcycles and cars, then groups on foot carrying
banners and wearing special dress followed. Our procession ended at the booths,
where at least 150 school kids had crowded around holding signs of their
schools.
The officials of the region, district and town gave speeches
over a loud speaker system, which I’m also learning is popular for events here.
Some of the men gave very long and drawn out speeches and with some political
highlights too (paraphrased translations were supplied by the supervisor and
president I was with). After this, each booth was introduced to the officials. I
walked around to meet people and even given some food by the Red Cross booth
promoting better nutrition. I explained some posters of animals to the
children, ages ranging from 7-teenager years. Some talked with me, others just
stared and laughed, which I thought was odd because this larger town must get
at least some foreigner traffic, plus there is a volunteer lives here
(unfortunately out on vacation).
HOT HOT HOT The sun beat down and the booth didn’t provide much
relief.
We were done by 3pm; I rested then walked down to the soccer
match with the president, dancing down the road with a women’s group that
happened to be walking by so I decided to join them. I already stand out so,
hey, why not add to the spectacle!
As darkness neared we drove into the main area of town again
& attended a debate, I snacked on the oven-baked mini pizzas and cream
puffs, understanding little about the Q & A session. By 9pm, we were all
tired, the president went to bed & my supervisor and some other younger NGO
leaders attended the “Bally” aka dance party. Although I was asked to dance
several times, and by what I assumed were officials, I danced little. Not
wanted to send the wrong signals about why I was there. My colleagues danced some and I was surprised
with their enthusiasm when an Elvis song was played (that people started swing
dancing to). I had anticipated on only making an appearance but as more beers
joined us at the table (a 1 ½ liter bottle of Coca Cola was designated to me)
we watched a cooked and fried chicken be auctioned off and by 1am I was ready
for bed.
Up early, and it was a cooler –albeit bumpy and jostling
-ride. I joked with my fellow passengers that this was the same as a rollercoaster,
and tried to describe an amusement park.
This trip was a much-needed change of scenery, and I was so
appreciative of my Malagasy supervisor for taking me with them. Making myself
seen and being present at such events I feel is important, but in this larger
town that doesn’t know me….it was also frustrating. Most people assumed I am
French and would speak French to me. Or, pull out the few broken phrases they
knew in English then ask when I could teach them, or better yet a random
relative of theirs, English. This was then followed by a request for my phone
number (not just males but females too), and a very quick excuse from me with a
soon end to the conversation. I will undoubtedly run into these stereotypes
again and again during my service. Needless to say, the return to my house was
a welcomed sight, and I was ever more appreciative of my village where the kids
know my name and I’m greeted with friendly smiles.
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